


four friends

by mourntheknight



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mourntheknight/pseuds/mourntheknight
Summary: After saving the world, Jake and Amara have a drink and talk about how royally screwed they are, and make a pact.





	1. drink with me

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to stress that mako mori is alive in this fic. not that shes going to appear but i just think it was a stupid decision to kill her off so fuck those guys shes alive

After an hour of having icy snow shoved down the back of her suit, Amara was ready to call it quits. It was cold and wet, and she wanted out. But if Jake was managing with a whole face full of snow, she could deal. She could wait until he backed out. If she could save the world, she could outlast Jacob Pentecost in a little bit of cold weather.

“Last round?” Jake asked, sounding out of breath, and Amara grinned, relishing in her victory.

Not that Jake had any idea that it was a competition, of course, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Loser has to buy drinks,” she called, already shovelling snow into something vaguely resembling a ball.

“Not fair!” Jake dropped to his knees, frantically scraping up loose chunks of snow. “You got a head start!”

Eighteen snowballs and four numb hands later, Jake and Amara found themselves back in the shatterdome with blankets around their shoulders and feet in tubs of warm water.

“I definitely won that,” Amara announced to no one in particular, since everyone else was busy trying to fix the damage done and establishing if and when there would be another attack.

“Uh, no,” Jake objected, snorting. “You must have gotten a concussion after one too many snowballs to the head, because _I_ won that fight.”

“Yes, I’d get a concussion, not from falling several hundred feet onto a Kaiju, but from one of your poorly made snowballs,” she drawled. “Anyway, who’s the one who ended up face down in the snow yelling, and I quote, ‘I give up! I give up!’”

“Fine,” Jake grumbled. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“I think if I’m old enough to pilot a Jaeger, I’m old enough to drink.”

“Those are in no way correlated, and you can have one drink,” Jake offered, waving his foot around in the water that was becoming more and more lukewarm, sending a couple of droplets flying.

“Hey!” Amara protested.

“With a meal.”

“Laws shouldn’t apply when you’re a saviour of the world,” she huffed.

“You should be thankful I’m not American,” he replied.

\----------

“I want some whisky. The expensive kind. Like Lagavulin,” Amara announced, waltzing into the kitchen.

“What the fuck is that? You get beer, cider, or terrible wine. Not that beer isn’t also terrible. I’d go for the cider,” Jake advised, already grabbing one from the bottom shelf of the fridge and tossing it to her before deciding on a drink of his own.

Amara heaved a big sigh, catching the bottle with ease. “This sucks. I was promised a drink.”

“That is a drink. And where’s your meal?” Jake asked, hands on his hips.

She set the bottle down, and walked over to the freezer, fishing out two large tubs of ice cream. “Chocolate or cookies and cream?”

“You know,” Jake said, looking pointedly at her.

Right. The drift. She tossed him the tub of cookies and cream, grabbing two spoons and a can of whipped cream on the way back to the table.

Jake looked at his tub carefully. “You know, I think this is for dessert tomorrow.”

“We just saved the world, Pentecost. I think it owes us a little ice cream,” she replied, already tearing the paper off the top.

Jake shrugged, digging his spoon into his tub of ice cream and getting a sweet taste of victory.

They sat in comfortable silence, as they dug into their respective tubs, drinks temporarily forgotten. It had been a long time since they’d gotten a chance to relax, if ever. It was finally over. Amara took a big bite of her ice cream, sighing in satisfaction.

Jake set his spoon down, reaching for the can of whipped cream. “So… Vik, huh?” He asked, spraying it directly into his mouth.

Amara nearly spat out her ice cream. “What?!” She coughed.

He grinned. “The drift, remember? Can’t help it if you spend a lot of your training time looking at her biceps.”

She could feel the tips of her ears getting hot. “So, Nate, huh?” She shot back, trying to keep her voice steady.

The whipped cream went flying, half of it landing all over Jake’s face.

“God, you don’t have to give me a demonstration,” she laughed.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” she sang out.

He punched her shoulder lightly in retaliation, and snatched a towel from the counter, swiping it across his face.

“Gross. So why Vik? Weren’t you two fighting just yesterday or something?” He inquired, licking the last bits of whipped cream from his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed.

Turning dramatically in his chair, he fixed his eyes upon her and raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she admitted. “It’s not my fault she’s the most beautiful person to ever exist.”

“I’m sitting right here—”

“Plus, she’s so cool and she fights so well and she’s actually _nice_ when it comes down to it and she told me to build a huge Jaeger and can you imagine how distracting that is? She looked me right in the eye and told me to ‘make it a big one’ and you can’t just say that while looking at me like that, I’m weak, of course I’m going to fall in love with you if you say it like that and—”

“Okay, breathe.”

She paused, taking in a big gulp of fresh air. “God, I’m screwed,” she said quietly.

“Go for it,” Jake suggested, reaching for the tub of chocolate that sat untouched in front of Amara. “Life’s short.”

“You can’t just say that! What if she says no? She’s too good for me and what if she’s straight? What if she avoids me forever? We just became friends, I don’t want to wreck that,” she replied, snatching the tub away from Jake.

Ah, heterosexuality. The cause of all of life’s problems. Well, that, and the Kaiju.

“You just drifted with her; you should be able to tell if she likes you back.”

“I drifted with three people today, if you hadn’t noticed! I was a little busy trying not to chase my own rabbit. Give me a break,” Amara huffed, stabbing at the slowly melting ice cream. “And don’t avoid the question. What’s up with you and Nate?”

Jake sighed heavily, taking a large gulp of cider. “How much did you see?”

“A fight. A bit of… other stuff. Sorry,” she muttered, feeling somewhat guilty despite the fact that she could’ve done nothing to stop it.

“Not your fault.”

“What happened back then?” She asked gently, unsure of how to proceed.

Jake paused before speaking. “Back in the academy—”

“Oh, so we’re going _way_ back.”

“Can you not interrupt me while I’m telling you my tragic backstory?”

“Right, okay, continue, your royal highness.”

“It all started when we were cadets in the same class. Fifteen years old, young and irresponsible as hell. We supposed to pair up to spar, and I got paired with this guy. Big, tall, brains and brawn, everything that any cadet ever wanted to be. Perks of being a Pentecost. And then there was Nate. Thin, scrawny, standing in the corner, blending in with the background, completely unnoticeable. I looked at him,” Jake said, taking another sip of his cider, “and I _knew_. I knew we were going to be drift compatible.”

“How?” Amara asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Because he was so _hot_ ,” Jake replied, grinning. “Like me—”

Amara groaned.

\----------

It had been the look on his face that had caught Jake’s eye. He’d never seen eyes so sharp, almost gleaming in the shadows that he stood in. Everyone was here for a reason. To defeat the Kaiju, to get revenge for a family lost, to earn some money, get famous, or because they had nowhere else to go. That boy had looked like he was here to win.

He’d stood out, even before they’d started training. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, and didn’t seem to want to, content to stay in a corner until it was his turn to fight.

Naturally, it had been in Jake’s instincts to provoke that.

“Sorry, buddy,” Jake had said, patting his partner on his extremely large and firm shoulder, before jumping into the centre of the room, onto the mats. “I want him.”

All eyes had turned towards where Jake’s finger had pointed, and the boy in question had looked up in mild astonishment.

The instructor, exhausted but wary, had gestured for the boy to approach the mats. Jake was, after all, a Pentecost. Who was the instructor to get in the way of what was probably another commander in the making?

The boy had taken up a stick in his right hand as Jake had done the same, a crooked grin on his face. He hadn’t waited for Jake to get into a stance before he lunged at him, only stopped by Jake hastily bringing up his own stick to block the attack.

Jake had seen footage of Mako and Raleigh’s fight years after he’d had this one. It had been so controlled yet so strong, so elegant yet so swift, and anyone in the room could have seen they were drift compatible the moment Mako had stepped onto the mat.

This had been nothing like it. It had been furious stroke after furious stroke, neither willing to give in, more rough, less experience, more power, less control. It had been exhilarating. Jake had never felt anything like it. It had been one narrow dodge after another, sometimes with Jake managing to catch the other boy in the side with a burst of speed, and other times with him getting his feet knocked out from under him and a stick at his throat.

No one had seen anything like it.

Nate had won, in the end. Only because Jake had gotten distracted by those big blue eyes.

“Jake,” he’d introduced himself after the fight, hoping to get the boy’s name.

“I know,” the boy had replied.

“Oh,” Jake had said dumbfoundedly.

A pause.

“Nate,” the boy had said roughly.

But he’d walked over to Jake’s side to watch the next fight.

\----------

“And the rest is history,” Jake finished, taking another swig of cider.

“That,” Amara deadpanned, “answers absolutely none of my questions. Now I have so many more!”

“Like what?”

“Like did you date? Did you break up? Why’d you break up? What’s up with Jules Reyes? Why does young Nate sound like a delinquent? Are you making all this up?”

“No. No. Long story. I don’t know. Because he was. And no.”

“Spill the beans.”

“We stuck together after that. It may surprise you, but Nate wasn’t always the sparkling, enthusiastic ranger he is now. And teenage rebel Nate was hot.”

“I can see that.”

“Stop trying to steal my man,” Jake protested. “Anyway, I liked him. And he liked me. We both drifted, and we both knew. But back then, it was war. We didn’t have time to do anything; it was training day in, day out, and once you’d completed that, you were put out in the field, and once you came back from that, you were so exhausted you’d sleep through any free time you had left. We didn’t have time to talk shit out. Anyway, we weren’t those kinds of people.”

And they hadn’t been, no matter how much Jake had wanted it to be otherwise. He’d meant what he’d said when he told Amara life was fleeting. He’d have killed for the chance she had now.

“Well, what’s stopping you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Jake sighed. “You know how I told you about that day I walked out? Nate tried to stop me. That’s what we fought about. But back then, I had other priorities. I wanted to drift with my dad, to show him what I could do. So, I said things to get him to back off. Hurtful things. Said I didn’t need him as a partner. By the time I woke up, my dad was telling me to pack my bags. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.”

He looked at Amara, only to see a spoonful of chocolate ice cream dangling in front of his face.

“Thanks, kid.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Jake threw his hands up in the air, feeling the buzz from the cider starting to settle in. “I don’t know! I haven’t even apologised for all the shit I said before, so he probably still hates me somewhere in that perfect brain of his, and I’ve missed my chance for us to create the most beautiful babies in the universe.”

Amara stared at him. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Respect your elders,” he shot back. “And I don’t see _you_ making a move.”

“Fine. If I ask out Vik, you have to ask out Nate. Loser buys more ice cream.”

“I don’t think we even paid for these,” Jake muttered, taking another bite.

“Loser buys more ice cream and if we both get rejected, we can sit here and cry about it.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like it so far!! title is from ghost quartet by dave malloy and chapter title is from les mis! please like and comment if you can!! just wanna know if this is something i should be continuing asdjkfhsdsf i know pac rim 2 wasn't to everyone's tastes but. i love my gay friends and i enjoyed it john boyega deserves more lead roles!!! thank you for reading this!!!


	2. i'd like to scrawl on every wall i see

“Sir?”

“Yes, Malikova? I think you can call me Nate now; I’m pretty sure you’ve all been promoted,” he said from across the table in the mess hall.

He’d been sitting alone, poking at his dubious mashed potatoes when she’d appeared in front of him and asked to sit down. She plonked her tray of equally disgusting mess hall food in front of him and took a seat, eyeing the food with disdain.

“I was wondering if, besides being a pilot, the PPDC could also train us in how to be a mechanic? An engineer? To learn how to build and repair the Jaegers,” she finished, staring intently at her food tray.

“I see,” he mused. “Perhaps it would be useful to have people trained in both areas, if they could manage the training. I could bring it up to whoever they decide the next marshal’s going to be. Maybe you could ask Jules for help in the meantime?”

“Yes, sir.”

He took in the red tips of her ears and the blush slowly creeping down her neck. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Cadet Nam—”

“No!” She exclaimed hurriedly. “I just think it would help—”

“Hey,” he interrupted her, glancing slightly to her left. “Have you noticed the way those two have been looking at us this whole time?”

She turned her head to take a peek in the direction that his eyes were signalling in. Amara and Jake were sitting a few tables away, conspicuously glancing at their table every five seconds. “Why are they staring?”

“I think they’re glaring.”

“Why are they glaring?”

“Beats me.”

The two in question were not-so-subtly nudging one another, before Amara shot up and bounded over, shooting Jake a look.

“Vik,” she said, far too loudly, “can I talk to you?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Yes,” Vik replied, before getting up and following Amara.

She thought she heard Ranger Lambert say something about her food tray, but she couldn’t even begin to process that as she followed Amara’s determined footsteps out of the mess hall.

\----------

They walked in awkward silence until they reached the Jaeger bay. The metal steps they climbed seemed to echo throughout the mostly empty bay as they ascended, until they reached the top, settling in next to where Scrapper’s cockpit was. It was the only Jaeger left standing, but it had been broken to the point of ruin. The wires and supports held it up, but Amara knew that most of its parts were in dire need of replacement.

She sat down on the walkway, legs dangling off the edge, gesturing for Vik to sit down next to her. God, this could go so terribly. Vik could easily never speak to her again. She could feel so uncomfortable about the whole thing, and say she’d only want to partner with Jinhai from then on. And that was the worst thing. What if she was uncomfortable with the whole liking women thing? Then they’d stop being friends, and Amara would hate that, and then they wouldn’t speak anymore, and maybe the rest of the cadets would think the same, and—

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Vik asked, oblivious to her internal breakdown.

She didn’t even know how to have the coming out talk, let alone the I-have-a-raging-crush-on-you-please-don’t-hate-me talk. “Uh, I don’t know if you… if you noticed anything? While we were drifting, I mean?”

Vik furrowed her eyebrows. “Like what?”

“Never mind,” she replied quickly, losing whatever courage she’d had.

Curse that Pentecost. She’d been so intent on beating him to the punch that she’d forgotten why she was so scared about this in the first place.

“You know,” Vik said slowly, “bigger is not always bigger.”

“You do know what people are usually referring to when they say that, right?”

“What?”

“… Never mind.”

“The Scrapper you built, it was… very impressive.”

“Oh,” Amara exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. “Thanks!”

“Maybe you could repair it.”

Amara’s heart sank slightly, remembering the loss of years of hard work. She’d scrounged and saved and stolen for years to get the parts to make Scrapper, and it could take ages before she would be able to get it back up and running.

“Perhaps I could help?” Vik offered quietly, hands gripping the railing in front of her.

Amara blinked in astonishment. “You want to help me repair Scrapper?”

“I was… wrong,” Vik admitted. “Learning how to build the Jaegers is useful. I should have paid more attention. You were the one who noticed it was Shao Industries that made Obsidian Fury.”

“Thanks,” Amara said again, still struggling to find the words. “Thank you. I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Vik gave her a small smile. “Maybe I could also help you build another Jaeger. Built for two this time, or maybe even three.”

“I think Jinhai’s going to partner Ilya. I heard them talking about it in the dorm room earlier.”

“Two then,” Vik amended, her smile growing even wider.

Amara had been halfway on her way to saying, “I’d like that.” She really had. But somewhere along the way, her brain had muddled it all up, and it had ended coming out as, “I like you.”

Vik let out a laugh that echoed throughout the bay. “I’d hope so, or else we wouldn’t be piloting a Jaeger together.”

Amara had the urge to slip out from under the railing and run into Scrapper’s cockpit and hide. Instead, she clenched her fists, stared pointedly at the years and years of her hard work, and said, “No, I mean, I _like_ you, like you. I can’t believe I just said that. I sound like an eleven year old.”

Then, she remembered.

“Wait!” She shouted, startling Vik. “I was supposed to tell you that I’m—”

The words couldn’t come out. Gay? Bi? God, what if Vik hated her? She still hadn’t looked at Vik, afraid of what her expression would be. But she had to. She’d already said the worst of it all. She’d done it in the wrong order, curse her addled brain.

“I like girls,” she said quietly, staring at the railing now, because she couldn’t even stand to look at Scrapper. She gripped it so tightly she could see the whites of her knuckles, and fuck, why wasn’t that enough to distract her from what she was saying?

“I know.”

What?

“What?” Amara asked, words still being processed in her head.

“Not the first part,” Vik exclaimed in alarm. “The girls part. I knew. I knew since we drifted. I thought you knew too.”

“Why does everyone assume I know everything because of the drifting?” Amara laughed, voice still shaky. “I drifted with three people that day; I was a little preoccupied.”

“Me too.”

“You only drifted with two! That doesn’t count.”

“About the girls thing,” Vik clarified. “I thought you knew about me too.”

Amara’s heart pounded in her chest, threatening to burst. There had been one too many big reveals in a day. Vik also liked girls. Vik didn’t hate her. Vik liked girls. Vik didn’t hate her. Vik—

“But the first part. That is new.”

“What?” Amara asked, blood pounding in her ears. She was having a hard time hearing anything.

She turned her head to face Vik, only to feel a hand gently pushing the bottom of her chin up, and another against the back of her head, as Vik leaned in, eyes closed, and pressed their lips together.

Amara squeaked, brain running a mile a minute. Vik was kissing her. Vik was actually, properly kissing her. This was happening. Vik must like her. Vik must like her, or she wouldn’t be kissing her. Vik—

“You are thinking too loud,” Vik stated, pulling back. “Was that alright?”

Amara blinked. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Better than when you saved the world?”

“That pales in comparison. This is definitely the best day of my life. Can you do that again?”

The smile on Vik’s face grew even wider, and she shifted even closer till their legs were side by side, and leaned in again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amara aka [abba voice] that's me  
> school has taught me that constantly having to come out is.. exhausting and hiding it from your homophobic friends is also.. exhausting  
> anyway i hope love works out for all us gays in twenty gayteen like it did for amara and vik  
> chapter title is from she loves me!! a wonderful musical  
> please like and comment and thank you for reading this!!! i love you all!!!!


	3. wait for me

“You forgot your food tray,” Nate called after Vik’s retreating form.

“I’ll eat it,” a familiar voice spoke. “Got a feeling they’ll be gone a while.”

Nate raised his eyebrows. “This is incredibly suspicious.”

“I don’t see anyone else coming to eat with you, so I’m all you’ve got,” Jake shot back, sliding into Vik’s seat.

“You’ve definitely got something to do with this then,” Nate said.

Jake grinned. “I might’ve been doing a little matchmaking.”

“Are they going to confess their undying love for one another and make out in the Jaeger bay? Teenage love is so dramatic.”

“Hey, don’t knock lovestruck teenagers!” Jake protested. “That was us, once.”

“We did nothing because we were at war and had a huge fight that led to us not speaking for ten years,” Nate stated dryly.

\----------

The first time they’d drifted, it’d felt like magic. Jake hadn’t wanted to be there, and in Nate, he found a kindred spirit. They’d both come for different reasons. Jake for his father, and Nate because he’d been ordered. But none of that mattered. When they’d drifted, it had been just Jake and Nate, in a Jaeger, kicking butt and taking names.

But then Mako Mori had come in and given a big speech about found family and all that bullshit. How his father had expected Jake to believe any of that was beyond him. He hadn’t even tried to be a real family with his own flesh and blood. But it had worked on Nate. He’d seen a light, a spark, in the boy’s eyes after that, looking for a way to make the shatterdome his new home, and the cadets his new family.

And somehow, that had been even worse, because Jake had liked this Nate even better. He’d made Jake want to be a better pilot, a better person, all for him.

But Jake had come here to find his father.

He’d thought up loads of ways to show his father how strong he’d become, and when he’d drifted with Nate, soon, it became all Nate could see.

“You have to stop it,” he’d said one day, in the privacy of their own room, “you don’t need your father to be a good pilot. You have the rest of us. You have me!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake had said roughly, before shoving him aside.

“Stop trying to impress him!”

“I’m not!” Jake had yelled, a wave of fury rushing through him. “I don’t need him to pilot a Jaeger, I don’t need anyone. I can do it on my own!”

Nate had grabbed his arm, trying to stop him from leaving. “That’s a lie. Stop it, you’re never going to be able to pilot a Jaeger solo!”

“You don’t know what I can do! I’ve never needed you to be my partner, and I’ve never wanted you to be!”

Nate had let go in shock, hurt written all over his face, and Jake had taken the chance to run.

\----------

Jake blinked. “Okay, Debbie Downer,” he said, “you can be the non-believer. I’ll be the one believing in those kids. They’re a hell of a lot smarter than we were. They’ll make it work.”

“If I recall, only one of us was causing trouble that day,” Nate replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, I’d almost forgotten you were a teenage delinquent, thanks for reminding me,” Jake joked.

Nate sighed. “What do you want, Jake? I thought we weren’t going to bring up the past.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake blurted out.

“Excuse me?” Nate asked, bewildered.

“I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean it; I just said stupid things so you’d let me go,” Jake tried to explain.

God, he sounded stupid. He wished there was a hole beneath him that would swallow him up, disgusting food tray and all.

“Apology accepted,” Nate said easily, “I forgave you a long time ago.”

“What?” It was Jake’s turn to be confused.

“We drifted, remember? I know what’s going on in your head. I know you didn’t mean any of it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you back on the team.”

“Like you had a choice,” Jake scoffed. “I’m too beautiful to be kicked out.”

“You _were_ kicked out.”

“Semantics.”

Nate glanced around. “Would you like to continue this conversation elsewhere? I get the feeling our gossipy cadets are already listening in.”

They heard a distant voice call out, “no, we’re not!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Your room? Or mine?”

“Mine’s bigger.” Nate stated.

Jake did a double take. “Is not.”

“Is too.”

“You’re just compensating.”

“Come _on_ ,” Nate said, tugging Jake to his feet. “I’ll race you.”

“Don’t forget to clear your food trays!” Another distant voice called out.

“Right after we clear these trays,” Nate amended.

\----------

Nate fell in by Jake’s side, walking back to their rooms, just like old times. Comfortable silence. It was like Jake’d never been away.

They’d been best friends, inseparable, and Jake had been easy-going where Nate had been strict and firm. And Jake had liked him. He’d liked him so much. He still did. But their differences had grown, and Nate became the ideal Ranger, while Jake became a screw-up.

“You’re not a screw-up.”

“What?” Jake asked confoundedly.

“I’ve been in your head, Pentecost. I know what you’re thinking. You’re not a screw-up. C’mon, let me show you,” Nate said, grabbing Jake’s hand and pulling him into another corridor.

Jake stared at their joined hands. They’d done this a thousand times before, during training, combat, daily routines. He had missed it.

“Catch,” Nate called out, tossing something his way.

Jake’s hand shot out, half by reflex, and half because Nate had been thinking it, and wow. He hadn’t known that that was possible. Then he looked up.

“Uh, why are we in the combat room?”

The sentence had barely left his mouth when Nate leapt forward, stick raised high above his head. Jake raised his to block, movement coming easily as if years of absence had merely been days. All his thoughts flew to the back of his mind as his primary thought became _Nate_. To watch for his movements, block, take advantage of the opening to his left, watch his feet, watch his eyes to anticipate movement.

Their first fight had started the same way, but that was where the similarities ended. Nate had grown, filling out with lean muscle, eyes sharper than ever before. He was faster too, despite being bigger. He’d kept Jake on his toes then, and he kept him on his toes now. Nate had learnt to fight like a soldier, and Jake had learnt to fight like a like a scrapper. No more Ranger Lambert, no more Ranger Pentecost. Just Nate and Jake.

But both of them had learnt not to attack first, but to watch for their opponent’s strike, their weakness, and they’d been in one another’s heads. Both knew where the other was going to step, to strike, and neither were willing to back down.

One point went to Nate when Jake’s foot slipped on the mat. Another went to Jake right after, tripping Nate up with his stick. Nate shot up, stance ready, and Jake did the same, watching and waiting.

They swung at the same time, sticks making a resounding clatter throughout the room, and the fight continued.

But some things didn’t change. Jake glanced at Nate’s eyes, his big, blue eyes, focused and determined, and the next thing he knew, he found himself on the floor, stick pointed at his forehead.

“We’ve changed,” Nate panted, trying to catch his breath.

Jake grinned, pushing up on one hand till he was sitting upright. “Speak for yourself, old man. I’ve still got fight in me left.”

“Says the person who lost the fight.”

“Your pretty face put me at a disadvantage.”

“ _Your_ pretty face put _me_ at a disadvantage,” Nate shot back.

Jake paused. “Touché.”

“You know, I never found another partner after you left,” Nate said, moving to sit down next to Jake. “There were other drifters, but no one like… you know.”

“What about the Shao Industries guy?”

“We were paired together when he was fresh out of training. He didn’t stand a chance. Eighteen-year-old me gave him hell, and when he saw an out, he took it.”

“Why?” Jake asked.

“He wasn’t you,” Nate said simply. “I’ve never drifted with anyone the way I drifted with you.”

Jake kept silent, absorbing the statement.

“We were idiots when we were teenagers. You were right. Namani and Malikova’ll do a heck of a lot better than we did. We should’ve gone for it,” Nate continued.

“We could spend all day talking about what we should’ve done. It’d take me more than a day to cover what I did wrong. But,” Jake said, swallowing, “how I felt. For you. Back then. It hasn’t changed.”

Nate turned to look at him, big blue eyes widening.

“Oh fuck,” Jake swore, “I forgot about Reyes.”

“You and Reyes?” Nate asked, perplexed.

“No, I thought… you… and Reyes…” Jake answered slowly. “Isn’t that why you were so touchy about me being friends with her?”

“I was being _touchy_ , because the first thing you did when you saw me was look right at her instead!”

Jake groaned, “God, we’re idiots.”

“It’s from all that drifting I’ve been doing with you,” Nate said, grinning.

“I,” Jake said, closing the distance between them, “am such a bad influence on you.”

His hand snuck around Nate’s waist, pulling him in closer until their foreheads were touching.

“I really hope you didn’t eat a lot of that mess hall food,” Jake murmured.

“You fu—”

Jake pressed his lips to Nate’s, eyelids squeezed shut. He could feel every thought in Nate’s brain flying out, as he moved to respond eagerly, hands wrapping themselves around Jake’s waist. Jake moved his hand to cup Nate’s face, bringing him closer. He could feel him, feel his mind, even though they weren’t drifting. Their thoughts seemed to meld into one, and when they parted, he barely noticed that they were both out of breath.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this in the combat room,” Nate said.

“That’s the first thing you’re saying after that?” Jake asked, astounded. “We’ve just been wrestling and fighting with our sticks, and you’re saying that _now_?”

Nate looked up at the ceiling, sighing deeply. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely,” Jake said, reaching in once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from hadestown!! what a great musical  
> hope no one minds i gave nate a lil bit of a backstory  
> please like and comment if you can!! and thank you to those who have already liked and commented, i love you!! you're wonderful thank you so much for the feedback  
> there's one last chapter to go!!


	4. everything's alight

Jake had two tubs of ice cream waiting when Amara walked into the kitchen.

“What’s this for?” She asked, gesturing to the ice cream. “I know you did it. Vik and I heard your success all the way from our dorm room.”

“It’s celebration ice cream!” Jake exclaimed excitedly. “The cider’s in the fridge, the spoons are in the drawer, everything’s set!”

Amara grinned, fishing out two spoons from the drawer. “Celebration of my win, I think?”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Your win? No, no, no, I think you mean _my_ win. I definitely asked him out first.”

“Excuse me?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Who was the one who asked if she could speak to Vik? You only got alone time with Ranger Lambert after I asked her!”

“You must be out of your mind, because—”

“Is this why you had to get out of bed?”

“Not now!” Jake replied, opening his mouth, ready to argue.

Then, they both paused, and turned to look at each other with horrified eyes, and slowly turned towards the source of the voice.

Nate stood in the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the side of the door frame, right next to Vik, who had her arms crossed, an amused expression on her face.

“Is this what you’ve been doing this whole time?” She asked, smile stretching into a lopsided grin.

“Vik! I—”

“Sir, I don’t think these two are very good influences on each other.”

Nate nodded in consideration, watching Jake trying to stutter out an explanation. “You know, I think you’re right, Malikova. I don’t think we should let these two hang out on their own anymore.”

They sauntered into the room, and grabbed two more tubs of ice cream, plonking them down on the counter. Vik gave Amara a peck on the cheek, laughing as she flushed bright red, and took the seat next to her, while Nate stole the spot next to Jake.

“So,” Nate said, ripping the lid off the tub of ice cream, “who’s got the whipped cream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading, y'all!! this last bit is just a short thing to finish it off, thanks for getting this far!!  
> the chapter title is from haled's song about love from the band's visit!!  
> i hope y'all enjoyed it, and i hope twenty gayteen treats all of u well  
> please like and comment if you enjoyed it!! thank you!!! and if u comment i love u!!!


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